Веснянки

           Heknowstheoldswampbetterthananyofus,exceptme,andifhesays’gobythetrail,’you’dbestdoit.”

           TheAngelhesitated.Shewantedtorecrosstheswampandtrytoreachthehorse.SheknewFreckleswouldbraveanydangertosavehercrossingtheswampalone,butshereallywasnotafraid,whilethetrailaddedoveramiletothewalk.Sheknewthepath.Sheintendedtorunfordearlifetheinstantshefeltherselffromtheirsight,andtuckedinthefoldsofherblousewasafinelittle32-caliberrevolverthatherfatherhadpresentedherforhershareinwhathewaspleasedtocallhermilitaryexploit.OnelastglanceatFrecklesshowedhertheagonyinhiseyes,andimmediatelysheimaginedhehadsomeotherreason.Shewouldfollowthetrail.

           “Allright,”shesaid,givingJackathrillingglance.“Ifyousayso,I’llreturnbythetrailtopleaseyou.Good-bye,everybody.”

           Sheliftedthebushesandstartedtowardtheentrance.

           “Youdamnedfool!Stopher!”growledWessner.“Keephertillwe’reloaded,anyhow.You’replayinghell!Can’tyouseethatwhenthisthingisfoundout,thereshe’llbetoruinallofus.Ifyoulethergo,everymanofushasgottocut,andsomeofuswillbecaughtsure.”

           Jacksprangforward.Freckles’heartmuffledinhisthroat.TheAngelseemedtodivineJack’scoming.Shewashummingalittlesong.Shedeliberatelystoppedandbeganpullingtheheadsofthecuriousgrassesthatgrewallaroundher.Whenshestraightened,shetookastepbackwardandcalled:“Ho!Freckles,theBirdWomanwantsthatnaturalhistorypamphletreturned.